We Had To Let Harry Go, part 3

[The Good Reverend Roger]

We had to let Harry go, today.  It was unfortunate, but we really had no choice. 

I had come in to the shop to hand out work orders, and there he was, sitting stock-still with his coffee cup an inch from his mouth.  I asked him what the problem was, and there was no answer...So I touched his arm.  It was stone.

The other mechanics just sat there quietly, looking nervous.  One of them had petrified, and they knew that the same thing could - and probably would, given time - happen to them.

I called human resources to ask if this was an OSHA reportable incident, and I was told that there was a lot of this going around.  Between bills and lack of job security, loved ones overseas in a couple of senseless wars, health insurance, and all the other nutjobbery attendant to the post-American century, people are just failing to cope.  They just sit down and calcify.

Anyway, I was given my instructions, and I made the calls.

An hour later, a truck pulled up from the granite counter-top contractor on the West side, and they loaded Harry up and drove away.  It reminded me of a scene from an old novel, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

And the other mechanics?  Why, I've never seen them work so hard.

Or Kill Me.

[Adios]

I thought Harry was the one who wandered off into the desert and was never seen again. But we musn't rely on my memory, somehow things are being deleted without my permission.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I thought Harry was the one who wandered off into the desert and was never seen again.

Well, we assume that's what happened.  His wrenches were just lying there, and people don't just vanish.

[Ari]

We'll see him again when they finally finish that pretty cobble stone street in the suburbs.
He'll support future generations, if only their feet.

~Planeswalker
shedding the chill from his bones

[Adios]

I thought Harry was the one who wandered off into the desert and was never seen again.

Well, we assume that's what happened.  His wrenches were just lying there, and people don't just vanish.

I'm about ready to go look for him. I want to go out with a rattlesnake in each hand and a coyote in my teeth.

[Richter]

I thought this was just a side effect of all the TUMS.  It's starting with my face, which is kind of useful.  People just assume you're unimpressed, percieving their bullshit, or a cop.  Then I realized the res tof me was following suit.  Like I'm some sort of golem only animated by enthusiasm, and I'm loosing that.  I hear people all day.  Stories, complaints, problems, and after awhile it's exhausting no matter who it is. 

Small problem, I tell msyelf.  I'm in a pretty secure place, I'm lucky.  I get done with the people and try to come up with the will to work on somethign quietly myself, and there's nothing for that either.  I jsut want to sit there and STOP for awhile.  Let my brain relax and stop, watching the skyline if I can get a clear view.  I'll always start again, eventually, hopefully before everything has moved on. 

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I thought Harry was the one who wandered off into the desert and was never seen again.

Well, we assume that's what happened.  His wrenches were just lying there, and people don't just vanish.

I'm about ready to go look for him. I want to go out with a rattlesnake in each hand and a coyote in my teeth.

Just try boppin' a couple of wrenches on a steel work table, you know, just play a peppy little number like they used to play on the radio, back in the good old days of HUAC and polio kids smiling at you from the mirror above their iron lungs, when everyone knew their place and people beat their families in the privacy of their own home, like decent people ought to do.  When kids went off to fight commies and if they came back a little broken, well, that's the price of Glory™.

Just play that tune until you find the right note, yeah? 

[Adios]

I thought Harry was the one who wandered off into the desert and was never seen again.

Well, we assume that's what happened.  His wrenches were just lying there, and people don't just vanish.

I'm about ready to go look for him. I want to go out with a rattlesnake in each hand and a coyote in my teeth.

Just try boppin' a couple of wrenches on a steel work table, you know, just play a peppy little number like they used to play on the radio, back in the good old days of HUAC and polio kids smiling at you from the mirror above their iron lungs, when everyone knew their place and people beat their families in the privacy of their own home, like decent people ought to do.  When kids went off to fight commies and if they came back a little broken, well, that's the price of Glory™.

Just play that tune until you find the right note, yeah? 

Somewhere, somehow, all the music died. Now it's just an empty shell of a time that has passed into myth. I can't find the beat.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I thought Harry was the one who wandered off into the desert and was never seen again.

Well, we assume that's what happened.  His wrenches were just lying there, and people don't just vanish.

I'm about ready to go look for him. I want to go out with a rattlesnake in each hand and a coyote in my teeth.

Just try boppin' a couple of wrenches on a steel work table, you know, just play a peppy little number like they used to play on the radio, back in the good old days of HUAC and polio kids smiling at you from the mirror above their iron lungs, when everyone knew their place and people beat their families in the privacy of their own home, like decent people ought to do.  When kids went off to fight commies and if they came back a little broken, well, that's the price of Glory™.

Just play that tune until you find the right note, yeah? 

Somewhere, somehow, all the music died. Now it's just an empty shell of a time that has passed into myth. I can't find the beat.

Concentrate more.  Harry found it.  Or the coyotes got him.  Nasty little brutes, when the pack gets big enough.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I thought this was just a side effect of all the TUMS.  It's starting with my face, which is kind of useful.  People just assume you're unimpressed, percieving their bullshit, or a cop.  Then I realized the res tof me was following suit.  Like I'm some sort of golem only animated by enthusiasm, and I'm loosing that.  I hear people all day.  Stories, complaints, problems, and after awhile it's exhausting no matter who it is. 

Small problem, I tell msyelf.  I'm in a pretty secure place, I'm lucky.  I get done with the people and try to come up with the will to work on somethign quietly myself, and there's nothing for that either.  I jsut want to sit there and STOP for awhile.  Let my brain relax and stop, watching the skyline if I can get a clear view.  I'll always start again, eventually, hopefully before everything has moved on. 

They make a pill for that.

They make a pill for everything.

[Adios]

I thought Harry was the one who wandered off into the desert and was never seen again.

Well, we assume that's what happened.  His wrenches were just lying there, and people don't just vanish.

I'm about ready to go look for him. I want to go out with a rattlesnake in each hand and a coyote in my teeth.

Just try boppin' a couple of wrenches on a steel work table, you know, just play a peppy little number like they used to play on the radio, back in the good old days of HUAC and polio kids smiling at you from the mirror above their iron lungs, when everyone knew their place and people beat their families in the privacy of their own home, like decent people ought to do.  When kids went off to fight commies and if they came back a little broken, well, that's the price of Glory™.

Just play that tune until you find the right note, yeah? 

Somewhere, somehow, all the music died. Now it's just an empty shell of a time that has passed into myth. I can't find the beat.

Concentrate more.  Harry found it.  Or the coyotes got him.  Nasty little brutes, when the pack gets big enough.

You are right about the coyotes. Cowardly bastards alone or in small groups, but vicious enough with plenty of numbers.

Concentrate? My doctor has done all she can to make sure that doesn't happen. By numbing my body she has also numbed my brain.

[Richter]

I thought this was just a side effect of all the TUMS.  It's starting with my face, which is kind of useful.  People just assume you're unimpressed, percieving their bullshit, or a cop.  Then I realized the res tof me was following suit.  Like I'm some sort of golem only animated by enthusiasm, and I'm loosing that.  I hear people all day.  Stories, complaints, problems, and after awhile it's exhausting no matter who it is. 

Small problem, I tell msyelf.  I'm in a pretty secure place, I'm lucky.  I get done with the people and try to come up with the will to work on somethign quietly myself, and there's nothing for that either.  I jsut want to sit there and STOP for awhile.  Let my brain relax and stop, watching the skyline if I can get a clear view.  I'll always start again, eventually, hopefully before everything has moved on. 

They make a pill for that.

They make a pill for everything.

Reminds me of what Bishop said.

"I can be re-worked, but I'll never be top of the line again.  I'd rather be nothing."

Some people, seeing Harry like that might be tempted to slip him a pill or three.  HR would REQUIRE it, at threat of cutting his family's benefits.  Or hook up the cables and jump in some "motivation".  Having him taken away to Knacker and Sons Countertops...well...  Let's just say I'll never look at puddingstone the same again.  

[Luna]

Some days, the idea of just stopping sounds just too good.

[Adios]

Some days, the idea of just stopping sounds just too good.

Yes, it certainly does.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Some days, the idea of just stopping sounds just too good.

Yeah, I'm gonna stop here for a second, catch my breath.

I'll get moving again.  Soon.